


The Masked Vagabond

by Phobicrhyme



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: As story progresses more characters/ relationships/ warnings will be tagged, Fake AH Crew, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phobicrhyme/pseuds/Phobicrhyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan had always hid his face. It was also for the same reason he left home: to keep the ones he loved safe.<br/>This is how Ryan became the crazed masked murderer he is today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving Home

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who have read this before, yes I did change some aspects, because someone has gratefully informed me that Ryan has said that he doesn't want his wife or kids in fics at all. So I have put in a girlfriend that does not exist so I don't go against his will with that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan, a young cop at the age of 24, is living with his girlfriend of five years. Being a newbie, he managed to piss off a local gang. He knew he had to get away. He knew his life was forever fucked.

 

"Ryan, please. What are you doing? Talk to me!"

"I can't, Anne. You would be in danger." Ryan was quickly shoving necessities into a rucksack. His wallet, clothes, laptop and a hand gun. He hated the use of guns, especially around his loved ones, but with three different gangs after him, there was not much choice.

"I need to get far away from here. Where they won't find me. Where they won't connect you, or the my family, to me."

Suddenly, there was a loud banging from downstairs. Both Anne and Ryan looked towards the bedroom door, then they turned to look at each other.

"Quickly, go. I'll distract them while you go out the back door. Your car keys are on the table." Ryan clasped Anne's hands together and looked her tenderly in the eyes.

"I love you. I am so sorry that this happened. I promise to send you money for your college tuition and the house, like I have been doing, and maybe one day I'll be able to come back." He kissed her with tears in his eyes.

 

The knocking got louder.

 

"I know you're in there! Open the door and come the fuck out or we'll come the fuck in." Anne ran to the door and unlocked it as if nothing was wrong. She put on a confused face and a hushed tone.

"It is 11:30 at night, I have been studying for my finals and you're banging on the door like a madman. What do you want?" She leant against the door frame and closed the door ever so slightly.

"Does Ryan Haywood live here?"

"I have no clue who that is."

"Well, there's information at the Police Station we know he works at that gives his motherfucking address. So bitch, answer me again. Does Ryan motherfucking Haywood live here??" The man at the door was large and intimidating and got closer with every word of his sentence. He began to brandish a gun from inside his jacket.

 

While this was happening, Ryan had finished packing his bag (including grabbing his uniform and badge) and quickly scribbled a note for Anne that read:

 

" **Anne**

 

**I am so sorry about this entire thing. I hope you can one day forgive me for this.**

**There is also one more thing I need for you to do. Please burn all of my left over clothes and any evidence of me ever living here.**

**Including all the photos. Please burn this note too.**

**I love you.**

 

 **Ryan.** "

 

Ryan sucked in the tears that had begun to form. He hated to leave his girlfriend. He hated to leave her with all the costs of living in a stupid house and leaving her. He thought that he would, after being with her for five years, that he had finally found someone he could spend the rest of his life with. He looked back at their bedroom one last time.

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say before he heard the shouting downstairs get louder. His head snapped up and he sneaked to the top of the stairs.

He adjusted the baseball cap on his head before he carefully made his way downstairs. Once he reached the bottom, he cast a mournful glance towards his beloved wife and smiled sadly. She quickly looked at him as her mouth twitched and turned back to the men at the door.

"No, Ryan motherfucking Haywood does not live here. Maybe he lives down the road and the Police Station got his address wrong. Now please, leave before I call the cops on you for harassing me." She folded her arms and stared angrily at the intimidating men at her front door.

Ryan crept through the door leading to the driveway and closed it very carefully. The latch on the door clicked shut and he stole away across to next door's garden. He hopped the hedge, and crouched down so the gang members wouldn't see him. As he was looking back, he trod on a garden gnome and it made a loud cracking noise. He held his breath.

"What was that?"

"Fuck." Ryan swore under his breath.

"You check over there." He heard footsteps hurriedly making their way to the next-door neighbours.

"Fuck it." Ryan stood up and sprinted across the lawn. Shouting was heard from his front garden.

He sprinted as fast and hard as he could, while jumping over the neighbours' garden fences. The shouting of the gang members got only the tiniest bit quieter, but they were still hot on his trail.

Ryan came across a vehicle that was directly in his path (the others had either been pulled more forward or they were in a garage). He ran to the car door and tried to open it, but found it was locked. He quickly looked around for something to use on the window so that he could get in. There was a rock that was part of a display in the garden he was standing in and ran quickly for it.

He smashed the window of the jeep, reached in and unlocked the door, the alarm suddenly blaring. Ryan reached under the steering wheel and tore off the panel leading to the wires that would start the car.

Ryan was running on pure instinct and adrenaline now. The only noise he heard was the beating of his own heart. His hands were shaking as he starting pulling on the wires to hot-wire the car. He quickly glanced behind him and saw dark figures on the other side of the fence.

Suddenly, the engine roared to life as he realised that there were now men beginning to shoot at him. He ducked down as he put the car into reverse and backed out of the run down driveway. The wheel was spun around so as to put the car facing the right direction: out of this godforsaken neighbourhood.

The gear was shifted to drive and Ryan slammed his foot down on the gas. The noise of machine gun fire and engines starting filled the air. That only made Ryan drive faster.

Of course he had to live at the back of the fucking neighbourhood. Of course. Ryan silently cursed himself for choosing a house that had no quick accessibility to the main road. He would make a better choice next time.

The gang members stayed on his trail no matter what he did. They always found him. He fumbled for his gun in his backpack while keeping one hand on the wheel. The bag clumsily fell into the foot-well as he pulled the zip open. Ryan took his eyes off the road for a second and had to swerve to miss a fire hydrant.

Finally, he found his gun and began to fire blindly behind him. The sound of metal crunching and water shooting out of the ground let him know that one car had crashed. There were still two more to go.

Ryan took another left and finally saw the main road. There was no time for slowing down (or signalling) so Ryan just took a sharp right and then he was on the main road.

The roads were mostly clear, but Ryan still had to get away from these stupid people. He swerved from lane to lane, avoiding being shot at. But, it was to no avail. A stray bullet hit a back tire and Ryan immediately lost control of the car. The jeep slid all over the road, causing Ryan to realise there was no hope for the car.

He hit a bank on the outer side of the road and flipped the car. Ryan became disoriented as the car was rolling down the hill of the bank. Glass was flying everywhere and it cut Ryan's hands, face and clothes.

The car finally stopped rolling with a crunch with Ryan hanging from his seat courtesy of his seat-belt. He quickly undid himself and fell onto his neck and shoulders. Ryan gasped in pain as he carefully rolled out of the car. He quickly turned back around to grab his rucksack and slung it over his shoulders. He set off running.

He ran through the trees as fast as his legs could carry him. It was pitch black and Ryan could not see anything. As he was running, he put a foot down but there was no ground where there should have been. He fell down another bank, astonishingly not breaking his legs. But before he could get up, he heard voices and saw the light of flashlights shining onto the bank across from him. He scrambled backwards and pressed his bleeding back up against the rock. He held his breath as he winced as a white hot pain seared through his back and buttocks.

 

His breathing became shallow.

 

He drew his legs in.

 

Suddenly, there was a noise right above him.

"I think he went this way." A beam of light shone down into the dry riverbed. Ryan saw a dark shape in the bed and felt for his backpack.

 

He didn't have it.

 

A shard of anxiety cut through him. His backpack was out in the middle of the riverbed.

 

Fuck.

 

"Nothing here, I'm going to try other there. Keep moving until you find this motherfucker." The sound of footsteps fell away and Ryan exhaled after for what felt like hours. Even after the footprints had long disappeared, He stayed backed up against the rocks, listening for sounds other than the crickets.

-

After about two hours, it began to rain. Ryan quickly crawled to his bag and dragged it back to his hidey hole so that his laptop wouldn't get completely destroyed. After a while, he began to shiver. Even a few seconds in the torrential downpour had soaked him to the bone. As the night temperature cooled, he piled on his spare clothes, in an attempt to keep warm and curled up as tightly as he could under the tiniest over-crop known to man.

 

And as he lay there sleeping, little did he know, that his life had changed forever.


	2. Thomas

Ryan woke up shivering. He looked at his watch.

6:47 am

He longed to go back to sleep, but knew that wasn't a possibility. He had to keep moving.

Ryan tried to sit up, but when he did, there was a pain in his ass. He gingerly lifted one butt cheek and felt for what could be the source of the pain. After a few seconds of shifting carefully and prodding to find the source, he found it. There were some small sharp lumps sticking out of his jeans. He pulled on one and brought it round to see what it was. It was the fucking glass from the window he had smashed out from the car last night. There must've been glass on the seat of the jeep, Ryan thought.

Ryan began taking as many pieces of glass out as possible, blood beginning to form on his fingers and hands as each piece came out. When there were no more big pieces left, he realised that the only way to get the remaining pieces out was to go to a doctor, and that was too risky. He would have to leave Georgia before seeing a doctor. But then again, he would have to visit a doctor to get his medical records so he could destroy them. Maybe there was another way of doing this.

The name Ryan Haywood could never come up again. Ryan Haywood had to be destroyed.

He stood up, out of his cubby hole and had a proper look at himself. He was covered in now dried mud, cuts and bruises from the car and basically looked like a hobo. The baseball cap was still on his head, which was good. He liked that baseball cap.

Ryan smiled as he adjusted it to the right location on his head. He put his hands on his hips and paused, just for a minute to stop and listen. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. The sound of the motorway was faint behind him, but the sound of the trees waving in the wind held him captive for a blissful second. He looked at his watch again.

7:08 am

He had better get a move on.

Ryan took off his extra clothes, stuffed them into his rucksack, grabbed it and slung it over his shoulders.The white hot pain from the night before returned to his back again and he cried out in pain. He quickly shrugged off his rucksack and whipped off his shirt. He looked at the back of he t-shirt and saw that there was blood all over it. Ryan felt his back and realised there were glass shards there too. Those ones would have to wait, he had already waited around too long. Ryan carefully slid his backpack on and began trekking towards the road.

After a few minutes, he began to see the remains of the jeep and heard voices surrounding it. He decided to stay the hell away from that. He walked faster.

When he finally reached the tree line, Ryan relaxed at the prospect of being closer to getting away. He decided to stay back behind the tree line a few metres so as to not be detected by any drivers or the gang members looking for him.

-

Ryan had been walking for about two hours when he came across a car that had stopped by the side of the road. There was a couple, obviously tourists, standing outside their car, looking at a map. As Ryan approached, he noticed that they were, in fact, an elderly couple bickering about whether to take the quickest route (so they would definitely make it to their granddaughter's wedding on time) or to take the scenic route (we'll make it in time, you only go to these kind of places once. And I want to see Georgia!).

Ryan slowed his steps and began to make his way to the back door. Luckily, the door was unlocked and so he silently slid into the back seat. He lay down and waited for them to come.

The couple finally finishing arguing and started to walk towards the car to reenter. Ryan realised that he should use something to threaten these people with and looked for his gun.

Crap. It wasn't there, it must still be inside the jeep, where he must've let go of it while being rolled. Ryan began to furiously look for something in the car that could even remotely be some sort of weapon to use against these people. He had to improvise.

He looked around his cramped space and saw a walking cane.

 _Why didn't they take it with them?_ Ryan was a tiny bit confused, but it was something to use. He pulled the plastic stop off the end of the metal cane and readied it for when they got in.

The couple got into the car (still bickering) and didn't notice Ryan in the back seat. Once the two had settled, Ryan decided to make himself known.

"Don't move." He moved the cane and pressed it into the back of the driver's neck, "because if you do, I'll blow your fucking brains out."

The wife whimpered with fear. Ryan quickly swung the cane to her and put it to her neck too.

"I will not hesitate. If either of you decide to call the cops, they'll find two dead bodies on the ground. Put your heads down." They did as they were told.

"Now, you're going to slowly hand me the keys to the car. Slowly." The elderly man slowly moved his hand to the ignition, the sound of a key being pulled out reached Ryan's ears. A shaky hand reached to the back seat, making a slight jangling noise of the keys. Ryan snatched them out of the elderly man's hand.

"Now, get out of the goddamn car. Quickly!" The woman yelped and flung the door open.The couple scrambled out of the car as Ryan climbed to the front seat. He shut the passenger's door and threw the cane out of the driver's door towards the couple. Before anything else could happen, he started the car and sped away to the next town.

-

Ryan had decided that a safe option, and someone that would help him, would be his cop partner. Thomas had become Ryan's closest friend on the force. They felt as if they had lived their whole lives with each other and would basically do absolutely anything for each other.

Ryan drove to Thomas' house. Lucky for him, it was a Thursday, so he would be off. If anything, the most Thomas would be doing would be walking his dog or smoking cigarettes and watching some film he'd seen a thousand times. Ryan parked across the street in front of a different person's house.

He dialed the number. A voice sounded over the receiver.

"Hello? Thomas speaking."

"Thomas, it's Ryan."

"Oh hey, Ryan. Do you wanna hang out or somethin'? Get a drink?"

"Uh, no. I need a huge favour. I'm really sorry to ask this of you, but it's the only thing I can do to keep everyone safe."

"What do you mean?" Thomas sounded confused.

"You know that gang we busted last week? They're out to get me. They came to my house and threatened Anne. I left and they followed me, and I wrecked a car and stole another one off an old couple. I'm scared. But I know what needs to be done."

"Holy shit, man. I'm so sorry. I'll help you with whatever needs doing. Also, where are you? It's probably best that you get here and lay low for a while."

"I'm across the street from your apartment. Don't look for me out here because they could be watching. I can't connect you anymore to me. But that leads right to what needs to be done. Ryan Haywood needs to be destroyed. Everything. Medical records, police records, school, licenses, anything that is attached to the name 'Ryan Haywood', must die." Ryan leaned back in the car seat and realised what choice that would be. He wouldn't be a real person. But, he would be free. No one would be able to track him. No one.

"Ryan... God, I had no idea how bad this was going to be. Holy shit. You're so fucked man, I didn't know this was how bad it was. Fuck. Alright, we're basically brothers, I'll help you. But I think I know someone that would be able to help. He's a hacker. And he luckily just so happens to be in this part of town. His flight was cancelled, so he's stuck in Georgia until further notice and he may be able to help you. He's young, but he knows what he's doing."

"Thomas. Thank you so much. This means the world to me, I don't know how I can repay you." Suddenly, there was a knock on the car window. Ryan jumped about as high as he could while still being inside a car. He rolled down the window.

"You can repay me by coming inside, so you're not out in the open. You can borrow my coat. You already have the hat." A tall, slim black man looked into Ryan's car with a raised eyebrow.

"Ok fine." Ryan got out of the car and smiled weakly. He gratefully accepted the warm coat from Thomas and grabbed his backpack. Thomas' dog, Barkemius Crouch (Thomas was a big Harry Potter fan), looked up at him and began licking his trouser leg. Ryan pet Barkemius Crouch as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He winced as the pain shot through his back once again.

"Ryan, what happened?" Thomas put a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"I'm... Fine." Ryan slowly breathed out in an attempt to lessen the pain.

"No, you're in pain. Shut the hell up, I'm getting you patched up."

"Fine." Thomas continued to look at Ryan intently, "I said fine!"

"Ok." Thomas took his hand off Ryan's shoulder and lead him to the front door of his apartment. Thomas unlocked the door and beckoned Ryan inside. Barkemius charged inside, ran straight to his bed and sat down. Thomas immediately walked to the kitchen and began to search for things in the cupboards.

"Hey, Ryan. Make yourself at home, but before we do anything, I'm gonna make sure you're ok."

"Thanks, Thomas."

The apartment was small, but big enough for one person. The place smelled of cigarettes, but not as badly as it had the last time Ryan was there. The sofa was of nice quality, but well worn. It had seen much use of people's asses. Ryan sat his down on the sofa and tried to calm down because the previous night had drained him. Thomas came back from the kitchen with some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and some other medical supplies.

"Alright. Take your shirt. I'm not fucking with you, take it off." Ryan sighed and shrugged off Thomas' jacket.

"Jesus, Ryan." Thomas saw the blood on the back of Ryan's shirt, "We're gonna throw that away, there's no hope here." Thomas took the shirt and shoved it into the bin in the kitchen. Thomas walked back into the living room and saw the massacre that was Ryan's back.

"How bad is it?"

"Fucking hell. I'm just gonna say it, it's fucking bad. Your back is covered in glass and shit. Luckily, I have tweezers in the med kit. Also, this is gonna hurt." Thomas put rubbing alcohol on the tweezers and began pulling out the glass from Ryan's back.

Ryan lay on the sofa and held his breath so he wouldn't focus on the pieces of glass being pulled out of his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this was a kind of short chapter. But the alternative was that it would be really really long and slow paced.


	3. Good-Bye, Ryan Haywood

Ryan had crashed on Thomas' couch and woke up to the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. He slowly got up and made a beeline for Thomas' handgun, which was on the coffee table. He carefully picked it up and silently padded the short distance to the kitchen. He hid around the corner and waited for a few seconds, listening to what was being said.

"...yeah, he's sleeping in the other room." He heard Thomas' voice, and the another spoke that he didn't recognise.

"Oh right." He sounded young, and he had an English accent.

"Who the hell are you?" Ryan swung around the corner with the gun pointing right at the kid, he only looked about 17 or 18. The kid flinched and put his hands up. He was wearing a grey t shirt and blue shorts, his brown hair was slightly unkempt and he had a huge nose.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa Ryan. This is the kid I was telling you about. He can help you do what you need to. He's good with computers, and hacking. His name is Gavin. Gavin Free. He flew in from England two days ago, but his connection flight was cancelled. Ok? Now put down the gun." Thomas had been moving slowly towards Ryan and putting his hand up.

Ryan slowly lowered his gun.

"Alright." The smell of food finally reached his nose and he realised how hunngry he was.

"How long was I alseep?"

"Well, you slept through lunch and straight on to dinner. Which is what I'm making now, sit down and I'll have a plate out soon enough." Thomas began busying himself with finishing up making dinner. Thomas put out some glasses with some water in them.

"So, Gavin, was it?"

"Yep. But you don't need to remember it, I plan to be someone that stays in the shadows." He gave a goofy grin and waved his arms mysteriously in front of his face.

"Alright." Ryan took a sip of his water. He waited a few minutes before talking again.

"I need to disappear."

"Easy enough. That's an easy virus, but time consuming. Everything under the name 'Ryan Haywood' can and will be erased permanently." Gavin said with a quite matter-of-voice.

"Thank you."

"Of course, there's always the hard copies of the files. And a fee." Ryan turned to look at him.

"A fee?"

"Yep." Gavin nonchalantly played with the cutlery on the kitchen island. "It's gonna be 250 dolla-... or not. You can get it for free." Ryan had picked up the handgun and began turning it over in his hands.

"You can definitely have it for free."

"Come on, Ryan, pay the kid. He just got here from the United Kingdom."

"Look, I'll give you 50 bucks. That's all I have in cash. I left too quickly to grab anything else." Thomas served dinner, only then did Ryan realise how hungry he was. He wolfed down the food and began to feel a little less drained from not having eaten since the previous day.

"I'll pay you back the rest when I can. When I've got money and I've managed to settle down, I will pay you back. In one way or another." Gavin look genuinely surprised as he stuffed his face as well.

"Um, thanks? But it'll be fine. If everything goes to plan, I'm pretty sure that we'll never meet again. Well, I hope." Ryan shrugged.

"I'm sure I'll find a way. I'm a cop. Ex-cop." He felt he should add that onto the end. Thomas interrupted.

"Gavin, would it be possible to start tonight? I get the feeling that Ryan wants to get out of town as soon as possible."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll just finish dinner and get started. I'm also gonna contact my employer, 'cause I don't like the sound spending too long in a place after I've basically destroyed a person in the space of a couple hours."

"Of course." Thomas turned to Ryan, "Ryan, we need to get rid of the hard copies. At the police station, dentist, orthodontist and the doctors. Things like that."

"I already have an idea for how to get rid of my doctor papers, and my dentist. Most things should be digital, but there are some that I have no control over. My parents still have my birth certificate. I mean, I'm only 24, I haven't really thought about getting it from them yet and they'd honestly never let me have it until I'm at least 30. So there's that." Ryan rubbed his face with his hands. He was beginning to stress out.

"I can get the police station files, I have my shift tomorrow. Everything that's a hard-copy under your name will be gone by the end of tomorrow."

"Can you get them by lunch? I'm going to buy the next available flight out of state. I just need to get away from here. I know my passport will track wherever I go, but as soon as I reach my final destination, I'm burning the shit out of it." Ryan leaned back in his chair as he chewed the last piece of food on his plate.

Ryan got up and cleared away his and Thomas' plates, Gavin was still eating. He was starving because he hadn't eaten in what felt like days (which, in reality, was only a few hours, he was a teenager after all). Ryan sat back down in silence.

"Alright. I'm ready." Gavin pushed his plate away from him, "I'll get right to writing this virus."

-

Ryan awoke the next morning in a cold sweat. He sat straight up and began panting heavily. His throat ached. His sheets were wet. Thomas had put him on the fold-out bed in the living room, he had fallen asleep pretty quickly leaving Thomas and Gavin to whatever they were doing. Ryan looked at his watch.

3:18 am.

"Good morning." Ryan looked over towards the sound of the voice. Gavin was sitting in an armchair, typing away on his laptop.

"Good morning?" Ryan was still bleary.

"I'm almost done with the virus. Just a few more touches, and I'll be done. Then, upload it to the internet and boom. Ryan Haywood: deleted. Of course, the police department has a private network, so Thomas will have to upload it in there separately. It's the same with the doctor's, but you're gonna have to do that one yourself, since you're going there today."

"Noted. Thank you." Gavin _mmm'd_ in response as Ryan got up and began to cool down. The cool air of the house felt good against his bare chest. He sighed and walked to the kitchen.

"Coffee?"

"No thanks, I've got my red bull." Gavin raised a half-empty can of red bull and took a sip from it.

"Alright, more for me." Ryan poured water into the pot and pot it on the stove to boil.  
After a few minutes, Ryan put the water and the coffee grinds in the strainer. Ryan sipped his coffee in silence, he wasn't ready for what was to come. Because he didn't know what was going to happen next. But he was starting anew. Nerves, anxiety and excitement pulsed through his veins, and now caffiene.

He padded back to the living room with his coffee, picked up a random book from the limited booshelf and read aimlessly to pass the time.

Three hours later, Thomas came downstairs in his police gear.

"Morning, Ryan. I see that Gavin finally went to sleep." Gavin had passed out in the armchair that he had firmly placed his behind in the previous night.

"Morning. I made some coffee a while ago, but it's cold. I don't think it would be that nice."

"Eh, I'll take it." Thomas poured a cup of coffee and set it in the microwave for a minute. Ryan walked over to the coffee table beside Gavin and picked up a USB stick and walked to the kitchen. He put it down on the island.

"Gavin put the virus on this. All you need to do is plug it in to a computer connected to the inside walls of the police network." Thomas picked uo the USB and looked at it.

"Alright. Done. I'll get into the archives as well and get everything of yours out too." He put it into his pocket, "I'll meet you at Taco Bell at 12:30 and I'll give you the files then."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll go to the doctors' before then and I'll make something up."

"I'll see you then. Bye Ryan, good luck."

"The same to you." Thomas left the house and the sound of a car starting up reached Ryan's ears.

Ryan grabbed his own laptop, connected to the WiFi and looked up the next flight out of state after 12:30. It would take an hour and a half to get to the airport from Taco Bell, so he would probably want his flight to be at around 3 o'clock. The closest one to three was at 3:15 pm, it was a connection flight through Austin, Texas and then on to Los Santos, San Andreas.

Good enough, and it was all the way across the country too. But also the crime capital of America. Ryan would worry about that when he came to it.

He booked the flight and gathered up his things. He took a shower, changed into fresh clothes and grabbed another cup of coffee. He rubbed his face once more and attempted to stretch out the knots that had formed in his back over the last two nights.

Ryan opened up his wallet and pulled out the 50 dollars he had. He placed it on Gavin's laptop and picked up the remaining USB stick that was on it as well.

-

Ryan pulled up to the office and went in. The waiting room smelled vaguely of cleaning supplies and had bright open windows. The floor was so shiny and clean looking, that you probably could have eaten off of the floor. Ryan kept his head down in an attempt to avoid looking at the cameras directly. He shifted the baseball cap ever so slightly to hide his face even more than he already could.

After a few minutes of waiting in line, he was at the front desk.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" A woman in her mid forties looked up at him and smiled brightly.

"Uh, hi. I'm going to be moving to a new state in a couple of days, would you mind giving me any hard copies of my medical records there are? They need everything."

"Oh, I'm sorry. We can't do that, but we can send over a digital copy of your information?"

"No, they asked specifically for any hard copies. Do you actually have any?"

"Of course, but we need to keep them for legality reasons. Will some printed off ones suffice?"

"Yes. Of course." Fuck. This meant he was going to have to steal them. He could see the wall of drawers in which the records were supposedly kept through a door behind the main office. The printer made a whirring sound as it printed off the few pages of Ryan's medical history.

"Here you are." The receptionist handed Ryan the small stack of papers.

"Thanks. Um, could you tell me where the bathroom is please?"

"Of course. Right through those doors, down the hallway and to the right. You should see the sign about two doors down." She pointed out of her window.

"Thank you." Ryan gave a brief smile before heading towards the doors.

As soon as the big double doors had closed, he paused and looked for a way that would lead to the archive room. There was a corridor that turned directly right and two open doorways: one to the left and one to the right. The one to the right lead to the front desk where the lady was sitting and the one to the left lead to the filing cabinets. Suddenly he heard foot steps. Ryan whirled around the corner to the main hallway and hid from the footfalls. A doctor walked passed Ryan and walked out into the waiting room. Ryan sighed, but knew that he would quickly return with a patient.

He walked into the file room only to find a nurse already in there sorting some files.

"Shit."

"You shouldn't be in here. Are you lost?"

"Uh... Yeah. Would you mind showing me the way to the bathroom? I thought that I knew the way, but I guess I apparently didn't. Haha." He laughed nervously and silently cursed himself for not making sure there was anybody in there first.

"Oh yeah, sure." She began to walk towards Ryan. He knew what he had to do, but he didn't like it.

"It's- " She did't get a chance to finish her sentence because Ryan had grabbed her from behind. He wrapped his right arm around her neck and his left hand was over her mouth. He pulled her backwards and squeezed ever so slightly. He did not want to kill her, he hate the thought of killing people in cols blood.

She eventually passed out. Ryan checked her pulse before looking for his files. She was still alive. But that meant he was definitely screwed. Assault. Fuck.

There were five filing cabinets, each named with different chunks of the alphabet. Ryan went for the one labelled 'F - H'. He flipped throughe each file looking for his name.

"Haden, Haines, Harper, Harris, Haywood. There we go." He pulled out the complete file and shoved it into his back pack. Next he had to get to the computer to upload the virus.

"Sorry about this." Ryan dragged the nurse out into the hallway. There was a corner to the left of the archive as well as the one he had come through. He dragged her across the nice polished floors to the left hallway. He left her in the middle of the hallway, but he had to get people's attention somehow. There was a janitor's cart in the hallway that looked like a pretty good distraction. Ryan grabbed the files the nurse had been working on, pulled the cart towards the her and then dropped the files and pushed the cart over to make it look like she had tripped over it and the files ruined. The cart made a loud crashed as it hit the floor. This will make the receptionist come running, he thought.

It turned out that the corridor was actually a loop. It was a square of doors inside and out. Ryan heard the footsteps of someone running and ran around the corner himself. He eventually came around to the reception desk and peaked around the doorway. He smirked as he found that the receptionist had run to see what the noise was. Ryan ran to her computer and inserted the USB stick. The file immediately popped up onto the screen with another file that said "HaywoodYaGet RidofThisShit.exe" Ryan sighed at the name and clicked on it. A status bar appeared on the screen telling him when the virus would be completely uploaded onto the computer and then be set free.

Two minutes was what it read.

Two minutes was not what Ryan felt he had.

"Hey, are you the front desk person?" A middle-aged man, about ten years older than Ryan, was standing in front of the window.

"Ah, no. Sorry. I'm only the IT guy, she'll be back in a few minutes. So why don't you take a seat until she gets back. Ok?" How had he got so good at this lying thing?

"Ok, sure." The man waddled away and sat down in a chair with a newpaper.

Suddenly, the voice of the front desk lady began to get louder. Shit, he had to stay on a tiny bit longer. There was about 20 seconds left, and Ryan was beginning to sweat buckets. He wiped his forehead with his forearm in an attempt to get rid of some of the stickiness.

"...are you sure you'll be ok?" The woman's voice got closer. Ryan turned around to see her body as she was looking back to check on her fellow colleague. 10 sesonds.

"I'll definitely be on the look out for that guy. He was at my desk earlier." She began to turn around.

5  


4  


3  


"Hey, you! What are you doing here??"  


2  


"Get out. I'm calling the cops."  


1

Ryan unplug the USB and threw his bag through the gap sliding glass window. He then climbed though himself, picked up his bag and ran through the doors towards his stupid stolen vehicle.

It was 11:45. He still had 45 minutes until he had to meet Thomas at Taco Bell. He had time to lay low, and make sure the cops weren't trying to find him.

When it was 12:20, Ryan drove over to Taco Bell. He waited and ordered food after about five minutes and then Thomas showed up.

"Hey, Ryan." Thomas began fumbling around in his bag.

"Hey, Thomas. Thank you so much for doing this for me. This means to world."

"Hey. any time, man. You're basically my brother. I'd do anything for you. Including, apparently, erase everything about yourself in the major databases. This is still freaking me out." Thomas pulled out a small stack of files and papers under Ryan's name. He added that to his stack of doctor's papers.

"So, this may be the last time we ever see each other. So I just wanna say now. You're a pretty great guy and I'm really glad you were my partner at the police department."

"I'm glad you were mine too." Thomas smiled sadly.

Ryan finished eating his Taco Bell and he got up and cleared away his place. After that, he went up to Thomas and hugged him tightly. He was one of his best friends, after all.

"See ya, around, whenever, I guess."

"See ya whenever."

Ryan got into the old couple's car and wondered if they had actually made it to their granddaughter's wedding. He started the engine and slowly breathed out. He wasn't safe yet. It was 12:40, he had two hours and 25 minutes until his flight left. He backed out of his parking space and turned onto the main road.

-

After about an hour of driving, Ryan stopped by the side of the road.He took out the files from his bag and threw them on the ground. He took out his police uniform and badge as well, luckily he had thought to pack that. He dumped those on top of the pile of paper and pulled out a box of matches from his pocket. A match was struck and dropped onto the paper first, as it would catch quicker than the clothes would. The papers were quickly ablaze and the uniform quickly after it.

Ryan made sure the fire burnt out and that the pile was a unrecognisable mess. He got back into his car and thought a single thought as he drive to the airport:

Good-bye Ryan Haywood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of liked this chapter. I'm not sure if it was too slow moving or not. What do you guys think? Anything I can improve on?


	4. Los Santos

Six months.

Ryan had been living in Los Santos for six months and was only just adjusting to the feeling of being stressed 24/7 and the San Andreas weather. No rain, just heat. Pure fucking heat.

Between leaving Georgia and coming to Los Santos, Ryan had managed to survive by buying the crappiest apartment he had ever seen in his life, and getting a job as a cashier in a run down gas station. The building smelt of piss and he was pretty sure a few rats had died in the time he had been working there.

He had no money and no food, he hadn't been able to keep his promise to Anne yet. Or to that kid Gavin, but it was very likely he wouldn't see that kid again. Or so he thought.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. Ryan had just finished scanning another customer's items and bid them goodbye, with the usual tedious "Have a nice day."

Suddenly, the bell rang once again. Ryan looked up and felt his heart seize up as he saw a man in a gorilla mask walk up towards the counter. It happened as if in slow motion. The man's footsteps seemed to echo throughout the small building as he brandished a gun. The man stopped when the muzzle was almost touching Ryan's forehead. His eyes were wide and he felt his bottom lip quivering, he quickly clenched down his teeth.

"I have a few things to say. One, the cameras aren't working. It's looping old footage, so no one will believe you. Two, don't even think about pressing the button under the counter because if you do, I won't hesitate to shoot you through the skull." The man's tattoo covered arm tensed as his finger lingered on the trigger.

"And three. If you don't put any money in this bag right now, you will never be able to have children, and you'll have to pee through a tube for the rest of your life." Ryan threw up one of his hands and began to open the cash register. He kept an eye on the heavily tattooed man and thought about why he seemed familiar to his. Fuck. It was the Fake AH Crew.

He had heard about them on the news and from his co-workers. These guys were dangerous and unpredictable, all they wanted was money and full control of the city. Unlike all the other gangs around the city, these guys were just unorthodox. Never caught by the police, and no one knew their names. There was only a vague description of them. Two males, one young and had a British accent, and the other a middle-aged man with arms covered in tattoos. Ryan realised he needed to do what he said, and quickly.

"Alpha one!" The voice sounded familiar.

"What? I'm almost done." The man, who was presumably Alpha one, replied without taking his eyes off of Ryan.

"We need to get going, I think someone just called the cops on us." The voice sounded young, just like- No. Gavin? _What have you got yourself into, kid?_   Ryan felt a pang of guilt for the kid as he shoved the last bit of money in the duffle bag that was given to him.

"Ok, I'm coming." Alpha one turned to Ryan, "You're a smart man. Keep it that way." He turned and ran out of the store and jumped into his getaway vehicle as sirens began blaring down the street. A screeching of tires was heard and the sound of an engine speeding away brought Ryan back from a stunned silence.

That was the employer Gavin was talking about. He was going to join the Fake AH Crew, and presumably become their resident hacker. Two police officers entered the store, interrupting Ryan from his thoughts.

"Excuse me sir, the robbery that just occurred here. May we ask you some questions about it?" One of the officers took out a notepad.

"Uh, yeah. Of course."

"Can we get your name first?"

"James Davis." It was a name that Ryan had prepared for things like this. He couldn't be too careful. The officer began firing question after question at Ryan. He answered them with complete truth, until one question came at him.

"Did you happen to recognise any of them? Like their voice or bodily features." The man looked at Ryan questioningly.

"Uh, no. I don't think so." He almost punched himself for lying to a police officer. He heard his heart in his ears as the anxiety from before returned. It was one thing he could do for Gavin, after what he did for Ryan.

"Thank you, sir. I've talked to your manager and he said you could have the rest of the day off. Have a good day." The police officers walked away.

"What the fuck." Ryan sighed and went into the staff room to grab his backpack and baseball cap. It was mid February, but surprisingly warm. What can you expect for a city that's right next to a desert.

He left the store and began his long walk home. He didn't have enough money to buy a car yet, but was saving up for one. As it was much much safer than walking.

After about 20 minutes, Ryan heard a voice behind him.

"Hands up, stay where you are." Ryan stopped and slowly put his hands up for the second time that day. He rolled his eyes. _Fucking again?_

"I have a gun, and you're gonna give me your wallet. I saw it in your front pocket. Give it to me." He was getting mugged in broad daylight, he couldn't believe it. Ryan slowly reached towards his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He brought his hand (with the wallet in it) back to it's original position. The man from behind took it from him and searched it's contents.

"Holy shit. Goddamn motherfucker. You're him!" Ryan furrowed his eyebrows; confused.

"You're that cocksucker, Ryan Haywood. You got away from my crew in Georgia. The boss will be pleased." Ryan cursed himself, yet again that day, for keeping his driver's license and not burning it when he had the chance.

"Your ass is dead, Mr Haywood." Just as the man said that, everything in Ryan's eyes went black as he was knocked out by the butt of the hand gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit of a short one, but the next one should make up for it.


	5. The Beginning?

Ryan's face was jerked violently to the side. He grimaced as his right cheek throbbed with pain. An overwhelming taste of copper filled his mouth and the red liquid that was his blood dripped slowly from his bottom lip. He spat.

"You thought you could run from us? You should know that we're fucking everywhere. We would've found you any place you'd snuck off to." Ryan turned to look at the man that had smacked him. He was in a polo t-shirt and long khakis, as if he'd just come off a golf course. He had put those kind of rubber gloves on that are used to search you in case you had any drugs stashed. Basically a prostate exam, but less pleasant for the receiver (like it was pleasant to begin with).

"You see, you fucking cross us, you fucking die. Capiche?" His voice was condescending. He sounded like Owen Wilson except slightly less high sounding and more of a violent prick.

Ryan didn't answer. He was smacked again.

"Capiche?!" The question was asked more intensely the second time. Ryan spat out another gob of blood.

"Capiche." Ryan tried to lean back in the chair he was duct taped to as far as he could, but to no avail. As soon as his head had rolled back, it was yanked down by the man with the gloves to face him.

"You're going to look at me when I talk to you. No other bullshit. You look at me, and you pay attention." Ryan's scalp burned, even after the man's hand had released it's grip.

"So, Mr Haywood, I bet you're wondering why you're here." He put his arm on top of the shoulder of one of the henchmen that was either side of him, "It's to teach you a lesson.

"You know that pretty girlfriend of yours?"

"Don't touch her!!" Ryan jerked forward, moving the chair a couple inches towards the prick. He felt an anger boil up inside him.

"Oh oh, don't get feisty. Besides, there's no point anyways." He knelt down to be on eye level with Ryan, "She's dead anyway." He shrugged like it was nothing. But that was what Ryan felt at that second. Nothing.

But that soon passed. Ryan spat right into the face of his captor, making sure it got right into his eye.

"You fucking bitch. I'll fucking kill you!" Ryan felt a white hot anger like he had never felt before surge up inside him.

"If you happen to cross our path again, the same will happen to you. Or your mother, your dear dear mother. Keep that in mind." He began to turn towards the barred door, "Take care of him. I have a game to return to." The cocksucker walked away as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the gob of bloody spit that Ryan had graced his face with.

But the retreating shithead was the least of his worries right now. The two body guards, who were built like tanks, closed the door of brown cell like room they was in and began to advance on Ryan. He didn't even care at this point. He felt like steam was coming out of his nose, and foam about to start coming out of his mouth. This was why he left. So no one would hurt his family. He was fucking angry. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he had suddenly lost control.

The huge men ambled over to the chair and began stripping the duct tape off Ryan's legs, one grabbed the leg that was free first and suddenly snapped it. Ryan screamed an angry hurt scream. What the fuck did he get himself into?

The other leg finally came free, but just as tweedle-dum was about to snap it, Ryan kicked out and hit him in the balls. He fell to his knees in pain, but the tweedle-dee was still standing. He had taken out a switchblade and was advancing very quickly. The chair fell away as Ryan stood up as best he could with his broken leg and dodged the blade a much as he could. The blade nicked his shoulder, but that didn't faze him. Tweedle-dum lunged to his left and Ryan fell back on his chair to his left. Seeing a chance, Ryan kicked the henchman's right leg as hard as he could and heard a satisfyingly sickening crunch. Ryan felt some kind of sweet release from his anger, but only for a second.

While Ryan had been dealing with knife guy, man number two had regained his strength to stand and had now pulled a gun on Ryan. The familiar click of the gun being armed reached Ryan's ears very quickly in that small room.

"No sudden moves." Ryan's hands and body were still tied to the chair, there was nothing he could do, unless...

"Ok, ok. You got me." Ryan feigned a scared note in his voice and lowered his head as a sign of defeat. He began to loosen his hands as a shiny glimpse of silver illuminated itself in Ryan's eyes, it was the switch blade.

"I'm going to finish what we started. And you're gonna sit still otherwise your grey matter is going to be on these already grey walls. Why do you think they're grey to begin with?" _Fucking hell, these guys are sadistic_ , was what Ryan probably would've thought a few hours ago. But nothing got through his anger too well.

Finally, his hands came free and lunged for the knife that was on the ground. He ducked as the hand gun was fired and missed him only by a few hairs. Ryan turned around as quickly as he could with a broken leg and stabbed tweedle-dee in the abdomen with the knife. He stumbled backwards clutching the knife in shock and sagged down against the wall next to the door. Ryan looked on apathetically.

"Now, I have some questions." He knelt down next to the henchmen and gently placed his hand on the handle.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Like hell I'd tell you." Ryan tightened his grip and began to steadily twist the blade. tweedle-dum cried out in pain.

Ryan clenched his teeth. "Who. Do. You. Work. For." The knife twisted deeper into the wound.

"Ok, ok! I’ll tell you, just calm down with the knife.” He whimpered and swallowed. Ryan loosened his grip on the knife, but kept tweedle-dee’s arms restricted under his foot.

“His name is Bruce Ackerman, but I don’t know anything else, I swear. He contacts us and tells us what he needs, then he pays us two days later. I sweat, that’s all I know. I swe-“ Ryan slit his throat before he could finish his sentence, a name was all he needed and that would begin the search.

The adrenaline faded and Ryan finally began to feel the pain of his leg. Every time he tried to put pressure on it, the pain shot through his leg like shooting stars. He ended up crawling towards the almost bleeding out henchman and yanked the knife out. The crimson blood spilled onto the floor and slowly mixed with the dust that had settled.

Ryan, with the blade, cut the bonds that held his other arm at bay. When both hands were free, he stretched, cracked his neck and stood, putting all his weight on his in the middle of the room enjoying the peace and quiet that he knew would soon be interrupted.

But, after he listened to the quiet, he realised he needed to take care of his leg. There were no splints that just so happened to lying around in the room, so Ryan picked up the chair he had been tied to and smashed it against a wall. He pulled out two of the thin slates from the back of the chair and put them either side of his right leg. There was some left over duct tape on the ground and was used to keep the splints on his leg.

The leg was still in pain, but a makeshift splint was better than nothing. Ryan realised he would have to get to a hospital soon. He scooped up the knife and gun as he limped passed and peeked around the door. Outside, the area was covered in rubble, the dirt was light brown and horrendously dry. There were only a few pieces of shrubbery, but they were thin and far in between. The air tasted drier than the city's did and Ryan only just realised how parched he was. Just around the corner, Ryan noticed a black SUV that presumably belonged to the henchmen.

He realised the coast was clear and stepped out into the hot and dangerous sunlight. He took a deep breath and felt the calm that one only feels before the storm. Ryan went back in to the small room, which turned out to be a disused bunker that was probably once used by the military for training, and searched the bodies of the men. Once he found what he was looking for, he went back outside and breathed in the air.

Ryan hadn't smoked in years. He had stopped before he joined the police force, which was about two years ago. He had resisted for a long long time, but there was something in his mind that just snapped. He pulled out a cigarette from the pack he had found on one of the henchmen and lit a match. The flame flickered to life and Ryan stared at it for a few seconds, fascinated by how it danced. The flame began sliding down the match stick towards Ryan's fingers, so he lit it quickly and dropped the match to the ground while still aflame. A small bush became ablaze in a matter of seconds as Ryan walked away in a manner that was eerily calm while smoking his cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, school just started and A levels are a lot to take on at first. Sorry if this wasn't worth the wait.  
> Also, apologies for the smoking bit if you're trying to give you smoking.
> 
> Update:  
> I only just changed some details, not much.


	6. The Mask

It had been six months since Ryan had been kidnapped. A year since he left Anne. Not that it mattered anymore. But he was close to walking normally again, his anger had been a huge help and disadvantage throughout the whole time. He hated the wait that it took to heal his leg, and the rehabilitation had taken its toll on him physically and mentally. He tried to walk every day, his determination driving him through the pain and exhaustion. But he felt he was close, he could walk at a normal speed, but with a limp, and running hurt like hell, but was possible.

Without having had a job for months, the bills had been piling up and up. The hospital bill made it even worse. That was what greeted him when he opened the door to his apartment. He sighed a long sigh. He kicked the pile of envelopes to the side and got on with his daily exercises for his legs.

“Alright, here we go.” He was almost done with his exercises, and he felt capable. He was going to start going to his apartment complex’s gym and start using the treadmill to train himself hard. He went straight to his laptop and began searching up for Bruce Ackerman. A name that had seared itself into his memory since that day.

After about an hour of searching for him, Ryan realised that even though everyone’s information could be found online, there was absolutely nothing on this asshole. Except that his picture was plastered on the front of the Los Santos Golf Club. He appeared to be one of the most valued members of the club, so he’d be invited to all the prestigious events being held there. That’s where Ryan would find him.

The persona that Bruce had built up for himself was a mask. A thick mask, and it would take months to break down to reveal who he was to the world. But, Ryan wasn’t that patient, and the next big event being held was tomorrow. It was a fundraiser for homeless veterans, so there would be money involved too. Ryan could use the money to pay off his bills, and there probably would be loads of money, due to the fact that the event would probably be filled with old rich white men. This was the perfect chance.

He would need guns, and something to hide his face. And a getaway vehicle. The problem was that Ryan would need money to get those things, and he needed to get those things to get money. He had to make a plan, and spend a little to gain a lot.

- 

Ryan took the bus down to Vespucci Beach, and although it was a beautiful and sunny day, he couldn’t enjoy it. The sea twinkled and glistened as the sunlight bounced off the waves, lapping at the golden sand, which had Vinewood-gorgeous men and women showing off what their mothers gave them. But, Ryan looked right passed them and went straight to the tourist trap of a kiosk. Vespucci Movie Masks was the first thing he thought of when he needed a mask. They probably weren’t the cheapest, but they would have to do.

As he walked up to the store, a specific mask caught his eye. A lone grey skull mask was pushed off to the side of the table amongst the mass of random masks. It had been left on its side and slightly squashed, looking rather deflated and sad. Ryan felt a little sorry for it and picked it up. He quickly examined it and smirked. _This’ll scare the shit outta those old people_. He quickly bought it and left.

Next stop, was Ammu-Nation. Ryan wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for it, but he would need to get the weapons somehow. We walked cautiously into the store and checked out where the cameras were, trying to keep his face down as much as possible.

“What can I get for you today, sir?” The clerk at the cash register smiled at him, but it quickly faded when he saw the mask.

“Could I have a look at some of your hand guns please?” Ryan asked the cashier.

“Of course, any in particular?” Now slightly nervous.

“Any with accuracy and a large magazine.” Ryan leaned against the counter, again scouting out the cameras, as the nervous man bumbled around behind the register for the guns. After a few minutes, he pulled out four different guns and laid them out on the counter. He began to explain the differences and advantages of each gun, Ryan only listened to which one had what he wanted. He picked up the one that took his fancy.

“Ah, very good choice si-“

“Can I see the bullets for this gun?”

“Uh, yes, of course.” The clerk carried on chattering as he found the box that held the bullets. They were carefully laid on the glass top.

“I would like this gun with a few boxes of ammunition.” As the cashier went down below the counter once again, Ryan began to unload the clip and load it until it was full. The clerk stood back up with the boxes and immediately had a panicked look on his face once he saw what Ryan was doing.

“Sir, you’re not allowed to-“ Suddenly, Ryan shot him and turned quickly to shoot the cameras so they wouldn’t see his face. He ran around the counter to pick up the dropped boxes of ammunition and then he power walked out of the store. His heart pounded with adrenaline, his breathing quickened as he stuffed the bullets and gun into his pockets. A guy on a motorcycle had stopped at the light just outside, Ryan sprinted towards the vehicle and knocked the guy off. He swung his leg over the motorcycle, pulled on the mask and sped away.

When he got close to his apartment, he pulled the mask off and tried to keep it as hidden as possible. He didn’t want any of his neighbours connecting him to what he was going to do the next night.

Ryan searched through what little clothes he had, trying to find something that would cover up his body, but would allow him to move properly. There was nothing that would cover him up nicely. He sat down on his moth eaten sofa, covered in bills, and looked out the window through his bedroom. It was dark outside, but enough light from the streetlamps illuminated something gently moving in the wind. Something heavy and black.

He went to his window and found that the flapping was a leather coat on someone’s washing line. Ryan wanted it badly. In the last six months, his moral impulse control had disintegrated into nothing. Ryan cocked his head to the side and slid his window up. The wind immediately caught his shaggy hair, flapping in front of his eyes. He climbed through the window and almost fell to the ground. He hopped the tall wooden fence and carefully pulled down the jacket from the line.

He felt it in his hands, the weight, the material. It was black with blue shoulders and three white stripes underneath with two more at the cuffs. He checked the inside, the material was perfect and hand pockets on the inside. Ryan threw the jacket over the fence and quickly hopped back over. He climbed back in the window, shaking with excitement. He put the jacket on, it was a good fit, he felt badass. Ryan grabbed the skull mask, pulled it on and turned around to look in the mirror. What he saw changed him. He looked at himself in the mask and felt a feeling bubbling inside him. He saw his blue eyes through the eye holes, almost sparkling with adrenaline. A feeling of invincibility took its hold over Ryan.

“Watch out, Bruce Ackerman.” Even his voice felt slightly foreign to him. He was no longer Ryan Haywood or James Davis. He was something entirely else. And he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Sorry it's been so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait :)  
> Tell me if I need to improve anything. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first work and please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


End file.
